Short Cut

The Return

Each day since Kobae found out there are others like him he has left his house and traveled three blocks to the tortoise rescue location. He bangs on the front door, if no one answers, he goes to the gate, until finally somebody lets him in. Once on Saturday, three times Sunday, and again on Monday.

We Have Contact

Kobae grew up with the dogs, Bishop and Chewey. He hiked where they hiked, followed them down the sidewalk, crossed at the crosswalk, fought other dogs when they fought, and grew up as a dog. When Bishop and Chewey passed last year, in his mind, he became the lead dog. When dogs show up at Base Camp (or anywhere in his path) he immediately charges to chase out the intruders. Kobae has never seen another tortoise or turtle until.......today.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Kobae returns to San Diego.

Last Hikes

Fall is here and in the next few days temperatures will drop into the 40's at night and that's the cue it's time for Kobae to return to San Diego for the winter. The man however is making the most of his last few days. Climbing stuff he can't get down as fast as Tom can rescue him. Tom is still getting sand out of his boots from the first rescue when he looks up and he's climbing a hill he's been trying for four years, and now, can't get down safely. Tom helps him down the second one and he goes right into a mud hole. That's how the days go.

Kobae, Stay on the Road

Drunk navigating, Kobae, weak lyric and vocal, Tom, so so harmonica, also Tom. (Though Kobae might do better.)

A Close One, Then Again, and Still, One More

A week plus ago a fellow lost his main parachute somewhere out here. Weather is coming and if Tom doesn't find it today, it's unlikely that if found, it will be useful. High up on the Anti-Cline, with full view of the area, it's not here. It's an hour and a half back to the lodge. In route, Tom finds Big Horn tracks cutting down a steep cliff. Tom decides if he can follow, he'll save an hour hike. A third of the way down he has to make a 10 foot jump onto a ledge, another third, another long jump, and finally making it to the bottom, a small five foot jump. As he lands, relieved he made it, he hears the too familiar rattle of the Faded Midget. Where is it, which way to move? In this alcove the rattle is loud, intense, and close. If he stays, he's bit, if he moves the wrong way, bit. He thinks it's behind him and moves forward. Returning 30 minutes later with a stick and bag to catch, it is gone.